


Sexy times in an angel's bookshop

by DiaboloFramboise



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Intense Sex, M/M, Smut and Fluff, Steamy Sex, Sweet Fluff, They love each other so much, aziraphale and crowley have sex after their dinner at the ritz, intense feelings, that's it that's the whole plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 08:09:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiaboloFramboise/pseuds/DiaboloFramboise
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley have steamy sex after their dinner at the Ritz and then share a sweet, fluffy moment. That’s it, that’s the whole plot. Smut and fluff!





	Sexy times in an angel's bookshop

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my great beta reader @thischarmingmutant for providing feedback, nice comments and advices, it is much appreciated.

Aziraphale dug his heels into the mattress, feverishly trying to decide if we wanted to raise his hips to chase the maddening contact of Crowley’s hand on his cock, or if, on the contrary, he wanted to lower his hips to keep Crowley’s cock deeply buried inside him. The choice was agonizing, and Aziraphale couldn’t make up his mind, pushing up and down in turns, alternating between chasing Crowley’s hand and Crowley’s cock, without being able to come to a decision about which was best. Both were equally excruciatingly pleasurable at the moment. The hand was pumping just right, confident and clever, the thumb doing unholy things to the sensitive flesh, while the cock was thrusting equally right, keeping the angle perfect and steady, sending Aziraphale a bit more into insanity with every push.

Aziraphale and Crowley had a wonderful time at the Ritz a few hours before, celebrating their newfound freedom with fine dining and alcohol. Aziraphale had invited Crowley at the bookshop for a last drink after dinner, not ready to part ways so soon. Over the course of the night, genuine conversations had been had, tentative questions had been asked with heart in throat and heartfelt confessions had finally been softly made. 

Aziraphale remembered the earth shattering kisses that ensued, still able to feel the way his heart exploded at the first press of Crowley’s lips on his. After that everything went blurry, and all of a sudden, without really knowing when or how, Aziraphale and Crowley had been laying in Aziraphale’s bed together, very naked, and very desperate for each other. 

Not that the when or how really mattered, thought Aziraphale with a loud moan of pleasure. The only thing that mattered to him right now was chasing the waves of ecstasy relentlessly assailing his body. The onslaught of sensations was very new for Aziraphale. He had indulged in a lot of earthly pleasures over the centuries, but never that particular one, contrary to Crowley. Aziraphale hated to think that Crowley had shared such intimacy with other people but he had always known that lust was a part of Crowleys’s old job. 

Despite the burning jealousy Aziraphale felt at imagining Crowley with someone else, he couldn’t help but be a bit grateful that one of them knew what they were doing. Aziraphale didn’t know his body could feel this way, his skin alight against Crowley’s hands, his blood boiling in his veins, every one of his nerve endings burning with a scorching fire that seem impossible to appease. He had no idea about the ferocity of desire, the violence of want, the absolute urgency of need, the vulnerability that came with all of these raw emotions. Aziraphale felt like he was falling apart, inevitably and completely, and he never wanted anyone else but Crowley to put him back together afterward. 

Aziraphale whined at the pressure increasingly coiling through his whole body, his heart skyrocketing and his mind fuzzy with need. He was so close, so so close. He didn’t need a lot more, he was almost there, _almost_. Crowley slowed down his hand, keeping it just on the side of not enough friction. Aziraphale made a wounded noise, frantically trying to push into Crowley’s hand to increase the pressure. Crowley didn’t budge, keeping his hand at its too slow rhythm, his grip tight enough to cause agonizing, sharp shots of pleasure but too loose to do anything more. He progressively stopped the movement of his hips as well, making Aziraphale exhale another wounded noise.

The angel writhed erratically on the bed, mumbling incoherent words and feverishly trying to keep moving his hips to chase after Crowley’s hand or cock. It was impossible when the other one was completely unmoving and Aziraphale half sobbed, uselessly trying to get some friction, _any_ friction. Crowley was keeping still though, looking at Aziraphale thrashing on the bed with utter awe. He seemed frozen in place, amazement etched into his features like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He looked like he was witnessing the most beautiful thing in the universe, and wanted to engrave every detail in his memory. The broken sound made by the angel finally seemed to startle Crowley out of his wonder and he abruptly snapped his hips, once, then twice, making Aziraphale cry out. Crowley rewarded the beautiful sound with another powerful thrust and resumed a slow rhythm, with his hips and with his hand, pushing and stroking with excruciating slowness.

Aziraphale arched on the bed at another particularly clever thrust, not hard but aimed just right, the need to finish almost painful now. His body was in full overdrive, his muscles tightly clenched, his breathing erratic, any coherent thoughts long gone. His whole world had narrowed down to one thing and only one thing: falling over that edge that seemed agonizingly just out of his reach. 

Aziraphale tried to talk, failed, tried to move, failed again and almost sobbed in desperation. Crowley seemed to understand anyway as he increased the rhythm of both his hand and hips, stroking and thrusting, relentlessly and with purpose this time. Aziraphale whined at the new onslaught of sensations, delirious with need as the pressure in his body became unbearable. His head dug into the pillow, exposing his neck to Crowley’s hungry mouth. Crowley leaned and bit the tender flesh, right next to where the tendons were jutting out. Aziraphale cried out and came, hard and sudden, thrashing against the mattress and calling out Crowley’s name. The pleasure ripped through his body, blinding and violent, almost painful in its intensity, shattering his body into a million pieces. Aziraphale’s voice broke on a last hoarse moan as he heavily collapsed on the bed with his eyes closed. From very far away, he felt Crowley thrust a few more times before stilling inside him and finally falling down on top of him. 

It took Aziraphale a very long moment to come back to his senses enough to notice that Crowley was laying half on top of him and half on the mattress. He was obviously careful not to crush Aziraphale and Aziraphale made a feeble noise of protest. It wasn’t good. He wanted, he _needed_ to feel Crowley’s full weight on him right now; he needed his arms tightly wrapped around him. He tried to talk to say so but was unable to articulate a word, waves of pleasurable exhaustion crashing down on him. His spent body felt like lead, limbs deliciously heavy with satiety, bones dissolved into the mattress like they could never be solid again. His eyelids were so heavy he doubted he could open his eyes ever again. The feeling was more intense than anything he had ever experienced and utterly delectable. 

Aziraphale distantly heard Crowley say his name and made a noise of acknowledgement with the back of his throat. It didn’t seem to satisfy Crowley though, as his voice rose in volume. It was only the obvious concern coloring Crowley’s tone that prompted Aziraphale to try his best to open his eyes. He peeled them open with difficulty to meet the worried gaze of Crowley. He was talking again, more urgently this time and Aziraphale worked hard on focusing enough to hear what he was saying. 

“Are you okay, angel?”

Crowley looked anxious, and it was a look that Aziraphale hated on Crowley so he forced his lips to move.

“You broke me,” he complained in a breath. “I won’t be able to move ever again.”

Crowley chuckled briefly but his eyes kept a hint of worry.

“Good or bad?” he asked quietly.

Aziraphale sighed heavily, contentment oozing out of every pore of his skin.

“Very, very good, my love,” he assured with a sleepy smile. “Better that anything else I know,” he added genuinely before yawning. “I’m tired. Want to sleep,” he mumbled.

Crowley moved to give him some space, but Aziraphale shook his head in protest.

“In your arms,” he whispered. “I wanna be in your arms. Please.”

Crowley complied immediately, gently moving Aziraphale to get him on his side, his back to Crowley’s front. Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, one between his neck and the pillow and the other one around his waist. He peppered Aziraphale’s neck and shoulders with kisses before plastering himself against Aziraphale’s back, pulling him flush against him, molding their bodies together from head to toes.  
Aziraphale made a noise of utter contentment and immediately closed his heavy eyes again.

“Good like that?” Crowley asked softly in his ear.

“Perfect, my darling,” Aziraphale exhaled.

He fell asleep in a matter of seconds, reveling heart, body and soul in the strong embrace of Crowley’s arms. Aziraphale slept for a whole hour before fluttering his eyes open, feeling a bit disorientated for a few seconds. His limbs were unusually heavy, his body deliciously sore with a deep bone feeling of satisfaction. He then felt the solid weight behind him and immediately smiled, pushing against the heat and the comfort of the arms around him with a happy sigh.

Crowley shifted, propping himself on his elbow.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a bit of worry still lingering in his voice.

Aziraphale frowned at the concern coloring Crowley’s voice and turned into the circle of his arms to look at him. He was greeted by Crowley’s tender gaze, gentle and adoring as always, and Aziraphale cursed himself for being so long to understand the meaning of it. He raised his head to kiss Crowley, long, deep and reassuring before answering.

“I feel splendid, my love,” Aziraphale promised.” I’m sorry if I worried you, I just couldn’t keep my eyes open.”

Crowley nodded hesitantly.

“Was it too much?” he asked tentatively. “Overwhelming?”

Aziraphale thought about it for a second. ” A bit overwhelming, perhaps,” he said truthfully. “But the good kind. Definitely the good kind. How could it feel otherwise when it’s the both of us?”

Crowley finally seemed to relax. 

“You enjoyed yourself, then?” he whispered.

Aziraphale smiled and pressed another long kiss on Crowley’s mouth. 

“I did. Immensely,” he assured against his lips.

Crowley slipped a hand behind Aziraphale’s neck to keep him in place as he kissed him deeply, soft but demanding.

“Enough to want to do it again?” Crowley asked hoarsely after releasing Aziraphale.

Aziraphale laughed, a bit out of breathe, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s neck to impatiently pull him flush against him. 

“Yes. Definitely.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know what you think, kudos and comments always make my day and fuel my inspiration to keep writing :-)


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